Glamping
by AngelOfDeath10
Summary: AU, Maka was planning her normal annual family camping trip when she finds herself sharing a meal with someone unexpected in the woods, Soul/Maka implied, oneshot


At the end of June I took a new, all consuming, job. Now that I've had a bit of a chance to settle into it, I am resolving to get back to the ritual of writing in the evenings. I'm also well aware that I have two unfinished fics. You can't know how much that troubles me but this bunny was making itself known! It's odd, but I think I'm ok with odd.

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater!

* * *

It was the swearing that caught his attention second. Not the often breathless banter of hikers winding through the mountain trails, but a lone fierce voice proclaiming to the world that the metallic clang that had proceeded it hadn't been part of her agenda for the day. Soul took a moment to climb down the tree he had been napping in just far enough to make out a high mousey blond ponytail cascading down shoulders far too narrow to be carrying the massive pack strapped to it. Even as he watched the pack was shrugged off with a thump he thought he could feel from there, and he watched the girl dust herself off and hiss as she noted where her stockings exposed a bloody tear over her knee.

"Why do forests have to have so many damn _trees_!?" she cried out loud enough to startle a bird nearby.

The sudden movement had her whirling around into a ready pose that looked downright deadly but also a little ridiculous, and when no obvious threat presented itself those narrow shoulders sagged. A self-aware laugh turned into a sigh.

"I guess here is as good as anywhere," after some moments had passed, and she had had time to clean off and bandage her cut using a zip lock bag of supplies from a pocket in her pack, she came to a decision. She retied her hair in a practiced motion and started to pull more things from her bag than Soul figured it really had room for. Packing well might be a sort of magic.

A girl alone in the woods, Soul thought. A girl alone in _these_ woods. He felt both exasperated and protective all of a sudden. He had half a mind to drop down and scare her away, but he noted how her walking stick had what looked to be a sharp metal point at the end of it and he saw no reason to get speared just because an idiot teen wanted to go camping. By herself. Where the veil was thin.

She removed some sort of portable music player from her backpack, right about the time Soul had decided not to interfere, and it began spewing out something repetitive and borderline hypnotizing. It had no melody to speak of, or words, just a driving beat. Soul felt like he was stuck at a revel all over again, watching the beautiful people sway and laugh. He had come to the mortal realms to escape nonsense like that.

Time to find a new tree.

* * *

Now that she had some music going and a protein bar down her throat, Maka could get to the real business of clearing her camp site and setting up her tent. There was no rain expected for the next few days, and Maka was certain that's all she would have patience for this time around. Papa rarely disappointed her when she met him halfway like this. She thought about pulling on another layer, despite already having a t-shirt, vest, and jacket on. Too much desert living was making her soft to the temperature variance in cooler climates.

"Now where's that mallet…" It wouldn't take long to set up the tent, but she always felt bad that she was practically forced into buying plastic everything for these trips. At least all she got was pins and needles from iron, courtesy of papa's genes.

Setting up the tent was a breeze, she'd been doing it in her backyard as a kid since her papa had loved being outdoors and there had been a time when he was her world. Everyone's dad's came and went as they pleased, she had assumed back then, just like they always clearly smelled of summer and honey and flowers. Thoughts of her childhood had become tainted with adult knowledge. Sure everyone's papa came and went, but most of them did because they had a job to go to or something. Maka's papa was, so far as she could tell, only a professional at getting women to like him.

The downward motion of her mallet had been a bit too forceful with that last thought and instead of the plastic tent spike it hit the ground and bounced back up, jarring her mind and body into the present situation and narrowly missing her face.

It was about time she built a fire.

* * *

It seemed like there was no place Soul could escape to that would both get him far enough from the noise of that music and keep him close enough to the entrance to the fair realms to slip home if need be. He was considering stabbing his eardrums with a stick when the smell of something sweet tickled his nose. Having spent so much time crawling around these so called national parks, Soul had become quite the campfire cuisine connoisseur.

There was the traditional hot dog on a stick, followed by every other meat on a stick you could imagine. Humans seemed obsessed with making sure they had all sorts of meat for their trips into the forest. It seemed counterintuitive given how low on the foodchain they were around here. There were stews occasionally, sad brothy affairs as often as thick herbaceous hearty ones. And the ubiquitous s'more. This smelled like none of those things. There was cinnamon, apple, and a sweetness that beckoned to something deep inside of his psyche and made his stomach growl.

It was getting to be twilight, and Soul couldn't help himself. He dropped from the tree silently, like the nocturnal predator he was, and slunk towards the lone figure hunched next to the campfire. As he spun a simple glamor around himself, which was honestly about as much as he could manage on a good day anyway, he tried to think of a convincing story. Taking a walk? Probably not this far in the forest at this time of night. College kid backpacking? He might be able to pull that off. He didn't care what she thought so long as she was willing to share some of that heavenly concoction.

Humans didn't like to be startled, he thought, so he started purposefully making lots of noise so that she could hear him over that infernal box still cranking out those obscene sounds.

"Hello?" The girl's voice cut over the sudden silence as the 'music' ceased abruptly.

"Hello?" Soul echoed. He tried to think of how people talked these days, knowing he never did well with talking to anyone let alone mortals. Best to mimic the girl as much as possible. "I heard your music." It pained him physically to call it music.

As he made it to the edge of the clearing he saw that the girl seemed to be open and relaxed sitting on the ground next to her fire, but even as she smiled in his direction she had one hand firmly surrounding the hilt of her walking stick that still was very much iron tipped. He imagined he could smell the iron over the smoke. Soul's skin itched as he thought about it.

For the barest of seconds he thought he saw the same iron in her eyes, but it was so fleeting Soul thought he needed to curb those flights of fancy as she gestured for him to come closer.

"Is it too loud? Sorry! It isn't exactly peek time for campers out this way so I thought it wouldn't bother anyone." Soul didn't get any sense that she was nervous about him, just wary, and her invitation was as casual as it was polite. "I was just making myself a quick dinner, if you would like to join me and talk."

Unusual to find a human with a sense of hospitality, and Soul didn't question his good fortune as his mouth watered once the sweet dish got into view. There was a fancy ceramic pan set up on a grate over the fire that had what looked to be a giant pancake inside of it. The apple slices carelessly tossed into it already looked soft.

"I don't have anything to bring to the feast…"

"Don't worry, you can always tell me a story if you need something to trade." Her words were fast and came with a toothy smile. "I always love a good story. And I hadn't brought anything new on my eReader, so I guess I'm in luck!"

She was too trusting, Soul thought, to let him get this close this fast. As soon as he took a seat opposite to her the wind took the opportunity to blow all the smoke in his face, starting him coughing.

"Doing ok over there?"

"I'm splendid," he gagged. He tried to throw a smile in her direction to reassure her and he saw her tense a moment. At least she had some sense of self-preservation left. "Once your fire ceases its attempt to kill me."

"Smoke follows beauty!" she chirped, her mind obviously somewhere else for a moment, perhaps a memory of another campfire and another person across it.

Soul opened his mouth to say something self-deprecating but then remembered his glamor was up so to her he probably was quite handsome and pretending otherwise would be disingenuous. Then he realized he had probably paused too long without responding to her joke. Even a mortal could make him feel socially awkward; it was beyond mortifying. Wes would be laughing until he couldn't breathe if he had seen Soul like this. The world's most awkward fae strikes again.

"Don't worry, when you get a little older it'll be all over you. The fire. You know." Deeply un-suave.

"How old do you think I am?" Came the girl's quick response, slightly miffed.

With eyes still a little watery from the smoke, Soul took a closer look. The mousey blond hair was still in the high ponytail but wisps of it were escaping to float around her like living things in the updraft from the fire. He had thought her young, and everything from her slight build to her petite features agreed but as he dove into those green eyes of hers he realized once more that something was off.

Soul shrugged. "Does it matter? How old do you think I am?"

"If you don't need to answer, then obviously I don't need to either." Taking a calming breath, she met his eyes across the fire with that thousand year old stare of hers and allowed her expression to smooth from annoyance to cheer once more. "Sorry, people always mistake me for a child. I get offered the kid's menu sometimes still when I go out to eat. It was funny at first, but after I graduated high school… anyway I didn't catch your name."

That's right, normal humans exchanged that as if it didn't matter. It had been way too long since he had tried to pass as anything but what he was. Usually he would skulk in shadows or hide in trees, and if he was feeling bold Soul would pull a hood over his hair and brush past people walking trails. This whole talking bit was ill conceived, and he'd been lured into it by his rash stomach before he knew where it would take him.

"Uh, you can call me Soul… uh… yeah." Slick. Not at all fake sounding, even if it was mostly real.

"You can call me Maka." She responded. "Soul isn't a name you hear very often."

That one he knew how to answer thanks to a run in with a grumpy older man a decade ago. "My parents were dirty hippies."

Maka gave him a short laugh, loosening her grip on the walking stick to see to her finished pancake. It slid off her pan easily and she was handing him a plastic plate and fork before he had time to think about how the light was failing and every moment they stayed here, so close to the barrier between worlds, she was putting herself at risk. Danger seemed far away when Maka was giving him pancakes and pouring out new batter to lift the smell of apples and cinnamon into the sky again.

"I have plenty here, so don't be shy. I bring the mix in bags and then add water as I want to make it."

The food was already in his mouth, puffing his cheeks out in his haste to get it in his belly. It was heavenly. Everything that was right with the world started with this pancake.

"So tell me," the fire crackled abruptly and a log shifted. "Seelie or Unseelie?"

Soul full on choked on his mouthful, spewing bits of honey and cinnamon flavored dough into the wind before he caught himself and shrank into a ball of confusion. Who the hell was this Maka person anyway?

* * *

Maka felt like the "boy" was harmless enough. The way his shoulders slumped and his eyes darted around, she figured he had been lured in by the scent of bread and honey and now he found himself wondering who she was and how much she actually knew. If he wanted a fight she was more than capable, but if not then maybe he knew her father and she wouldn't have to wait very long at all.

"I don't care either way, but I'm waiting for someone and they have some definite feelings about the Unseelie which could make things a little sticky for you if he happens by and sees us sharing a meal."

Soul's red eyes should have looked infernal with the fire casting lights in them, emphasizing how very inhuman he actually was, but Maka felt like his confused look came across more tired than evil. Those teeth were something else, though.

Her dinner guest swallowed thickly. "I'd better go then."

"Like I said it's none of my business, and I invited you to eat with me. As long as you behave yourself, you're welcome to stay." She gave him a smile, hoping to ease him back into moderate confidence rather than let him retreat the way he obviously intended to do. "No matter what anyone says."

"What form do you see me take?" The fae who called himself Soul seemed to be on shaky mental ground, eyeing the nearly finished pancake but so tense he was almost vibrating.

Maka looked him over carefully. "If you're asking what gave you away, I'd probably have to say your tunic and leggings. Not a lot of people wander around the forest looking like they escaped a Ren faire." He arched a pale eyebrow at her, clearly not following her joke (or not thinking it funny). The clothes really were a dead giveaway, that was no lie, but she enjoyed having an excuse to outright stare at him with those sleepy ruby eyes, high cheekbones, and narrow lips made almost invisible as he pressed them together in displeasure at her.

"Since you're the expert, you tell me how I could have deceived you then." He grumbled, picking at crumbs on his plate and flicking them into the forest. Maka upped the wattage of her smile and gave him half of the steaming pancake from the pan once it finished cooking.

"The clothes are an easy fix. Have you ever tried to wear jeans before?" When he didn't acknowledge her with anything more than a huff of air, she added. "Jeans are made from a heavy blue denim fabric—"

He interrupted her with exasperation "I know what jeans are, Ms. Know It All." When a moment of silence had passed in which they both took bites and avoided eye contact, he ventured. "So jeans and…?"

Glad he was at least receptive even if he felt patronized, she continued. "If you want to seem like someone my age I'd say you needed a t-shirt, jeans, sneakers or hiking boots—I'm not sure how much time you spend in the woods around here—and maybe a sweatshirt or jacket when it's cold."

"Weather on this side doesn't affect me much."

"It's not for you, it's about seeming normal. Normal human men don't walk around half dressed when it's cold."

Liz had made her download some magazines onto her tablet last week in some misguided attempt to convince her that she should up her fashion game, so she pulled out her eReader from her bag and flicked through the colorful images before landing on an advertisement for something or other. Soul was watching her, and as she held out the flat black rectangle he made no motion to grab it.

"It's all plastic, don't worry. Just take a look at this, you'll see what I mean. Kind of. I mean, these men are models and so you wouldn't probably wear everything they are wearing on a daily basis but it will give you a general idea."

Maka continued to hold it out in front of her, locking her arm muscles in place as he considered her offering so long she felt them begin to ache a little. Eventually he set his plate on the ground and warily took the object from her. As soon as his eyes met the screen they opened fully in wonder. He touched the screen, outlining something he saw there, and them jumped in his seat slightly when the page turned.

She smiled at him in a reassuring fashion. "It's not magic, just science. It seems a lot like magic, though. And people get more addicted to staring at those things than any fairy food. I promise you."

"I've seen television before. Even out here. I've just never seen a television you could touch before. No wonder fewer people walk the woods these days."

Maka made sure the pan had cooled and began to wipe down the inside with a cloth she pulled from her pack. Pancakes meant minimal mess to clean up, which was always nice. "Does that make you sad?"

The snort Soul gave was all the answer she needed to realize he wasn't particularly interested in meeting more people.

"This. Where do I get this?" He handed the tablet back to her, somewhat reluctantly, and Maka examined the ad before her for some kind of perfume. A woman was ascending a staircase in a tight black dress and glancing over her shoulder at a man who was clearly beginning to remove his tie before coming after her to ravage her or something. The perfume was called "Synchronicity" and Maka would bet Liz already owned some if she ever wanted to assault her senses with it.

"That," Maka said, glancing from the screen to his grinning face, "is a very expensive suit. I should have figured you'd find the most expensive looking thing and want that. But I have to say, I think it would fit: red to bring out your eyes, and the pinstripes would make you look even taller."

"I would try to show you but you apparently saw through my glamour and I don't have the energy to make another one for a while. Even if it did work, which half the time I wonder..."

He looked discouraged, like he had personally failed at something. True sight was just a side effect of being her mother's daughter so he shouldn't take the glamour thing personally. "Don't worry about it, you don't need to show me. I have a good imagination from reading so much."

Soul arched a white eyebrow and gave her a toothy grin. "Undressing me with that mind of yours?"

Maka reddened in mild affront and sputtered a bit as she instinctively cast around with her hand for something to throw at him, settling on a handful of dry fall leaves and dirt. "I would never!"

For good measure, she added, "Better look out. If my papa shows up and hears you talking like that he'll probably shake your hand sword first. He's not very good at emotional restraint."

"Sounds charming." Soul deadpanned.

Maka looked at him without really seeing him, remembering the day her papa found out Maka had a boy over to complete a high school science project. There had been tears (papa's), destruction (of Maka's diorama), and late nights (Maka trying to recreate the project and save her grade and her lab partner's). "He really _is_ quite charming, you know how fae men are around pretty women, but that is entirely the problem. All charm and no substance."

"Are you sure you're not a changeling?" Soul asked, crossing his arms across his chest and considering her carefully.

"Certainly not. My mama checked for that first thing when I was a baby. She wouldn't be taken in by something simple like that." Not her brilliant mother, ball busting attorney by day and pagan high priestess by night. Twenty four hours a day, Kami Albarn was fighting evil no matter what form it took.

 _It would have been nice if one of those hours had included being a mom._

Maka's traitorous brain could shut it. She poked a broken stick intended for kindling into the fire until it caught, then stirred the embers as they faded. Her brain stopped buzzing eventually if she concentrated on something monotonous. Visiting papa always brought up things she didn't want to really think about which is why she only scheduled it twice a year at most.

"I've offended you. I should go." Soul started to stand up, and she should have been relieved a fae was leaving her presence without trying to cause overt mischief.

But she wasn't relieved at all. "No! Stay. I just… things are complicated when you aren't really fully in one world or the other. You didn't do anything."

He didn't leave, but the silence that stretched between them was suddenly intimate in a way it hadn't been before. Maka wished she could just let things go, anything, even the discomfort of a stranger.

* * *

 _There's been times I've wished I could slip away into the human world._ The words were on the tip of Soul's tongue. He couldn't lie, and it wouldn't be one, but there were times when things were too true to say outright. Words were intentions and intentions of the wrong sort would sometimes catch the attention of a spiteful demigod or sprite. Better to say nothing.

Unlike Wes who knew how to seduce and wheedle, Soul mainly relied on being relatively invisible when it came to hunting his meals. He knew Maka's mind was preoccupied with troublesome things and he tried not to be visibly excited by the prospect of her misery. An active mind, troubled thoughts… he knew where it all led but he didn't want to prey on her after she had been so kind to him.

"I'm not a great conversationalist. I don't get much practice." Soul shrugged at her as Maka seemed to notice him again and her sunny smile snapped back in place. Unlike some people he had spoken with the in past, her smile seemed genuine and when she gave him her attention he felt like she was really listening. Looking at her for too long made his mind feel fuzzy, like she was casting some sort of spell on him.

"Want to play a game then? You won't have to do much talking."

She couldn't ask a question like that to someone like him, the answer was always an emphatic yes. "Of course!"

"Would you agree to twenty questions? Just think of something and then I try to figure out what you're thinking if I want to win. You can only answer with yes or no. I get three guesses after the twenty questions, and if I can't get it you win. Easy, right? No stakes, just fun." That cherubic face of hers practically glowed now that the sun had set and all that was between them and darkness were the embers.

The game seemed harmless. All he had to do was say yes or no. He gave her a nod.

"Great! This will be fun." Leaning forward so that her hands were warming next to the dying fire she launched in. "Are you a danger to me?" She had gone from carefree to deadly serious in a breath.

"No." Soul felt the sweat break out immediately. He had really walked into this. What an idiot.

"Could you be a danger to me?"

"Yes. But…"

Maka held up a hand. "Just yes or no, Soul. Stick to the rules."

"Uuugh, Maka." Soul dropped his face into his hands, his answers muffled through his fingers as she continued to grill him.

"Do you know a fae who goes by the name Spirit Albarn most commonly?"

"Yes."

"Do you know where I can find Spirit Albarn today?"

"No."

Her voice was closer, and he glanced over to see a leg to his left where there had been no leg before. Maka had moved closer to him, and butterflies immediately started fluttering in his overly fully stomach. It felt about as good as one would imagine butterflies in pancake mix would feel. He straightened up past his normal slouch, noticing that now he was quite a bit taller than her even while seated. That was oddly pleasing. She had the upper hand in everything else.

"Do you know someone who can find Spirit Albarn for me?" In response to him, she straightened and squared off her shoulders as well, but still couldn't match his height.

"Yes." He stifled a sigh. She seemed nice enough, he probably would have gone to get Wes to find her dad if she had just asked him. No tricks. No strings. Maybe another pancake…

"Can they be contacted within the next mortal day?"

"Yes, but Maka—"

She placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. He was so stunned she had touched him that he immediately froze up. Seemingly realizing she had crossed a line, she pulled back her hand and scooted a few feet away.

"Are you thinking of a woodpecker? Maybe a loaf of bread. No, it's definitely a horseshoe." Her words rushed out from between lips he was suddenly very attuned to. Soul knew he was blushing now, and it took a lot of self-control not to lick his lips where she had touched him as he felt how dry his mouth suddenly had become. Maka gave a forced laugh. "You win! You get a turn, by the way. Fair's fair."

Soul sat there and thought about what to say next. "I'm not into tricks and mind games, you know. Things like that take a lot of effort, and I try to conserve my energy. I'll take the win though. Loser."

"Excuse me?!" Oh she hadn't liked that at all.

"Well, you just lost the game so that makes you, literally, the loser." Soul saw the storm brewing and decided to spit into the wind a little more for fun. "Not too clever at this guessing game business. And here I thought you were smart."

Maka took slow breath in and out. "I know you're winding me up, but I'm not going to lie—I really want to punch you in the arm right now." Her laugh was weak.

Best to let her know he wasn't entirely helpless, Soul figured. "Touching me in anger isn't a wise move, Maka."

The look she gave him as she pulled out some sort of battery powered lamp that lit up the clearing almost as brightly as daylight told him volumes about how she thought he was about as threatening as the section of log she was placing under the camping light.

"I'm serious!" He felt like he had something to prove to her, to show her there was something extraordinary about him even if he wasn't the wiliest of the fae, or the strongest. "Have you heard of baku?"

There was a moment while her green eyes darted back and forth while her mind worked through it's memory index to come up with some description. There were hundreds of "species" of fae and the odds that she would know what he was were slim at best. But she seemed to be the kind of person who had a thorough upbringing when it came to the supernatural.

"Soul eater…" she murmured to herself, hand darting down to curl around the handle of her weapon, hopefully involuntarily.

He tried to put the right amount of disgruntled humor into his voice to diffuse her alarm. "I prefer 'dream eater' if you're going to be like that. Or 'nightmare eater' if you really want to give me the benefit of the doubt."

* * *

Maka knew of the baku, but they were supposed to be monstrous chimera, not handsome men with pointy teeth. Suddenly she wondered how long she could stay awake. There had been that study session for finals when she was up for two days straight, but she had sworn to herself she would never do that unless it was life or death. This, oddly enough, might count. Once asleep she would be helpless of he wanted to eat her dreams, her ambitions, her desires…

"You're looking at me like I'm a monster." He sounded so disappointed, and Maka felt ashamed of herself. Baku weren't known for being vindictive, in fact the opposite was supposed to be true.

Unless you pissed them off. She needed to calm down. It was impossible to actually imagine Soul pulling her essence out while she slept; her mind was drawing a total blank as she tried to picture it. Something about him seemed inherently more trustworthy than other magical people she had met.

"Soul…" There was a faint sound in the distance, a horn. The apology she was actually rather relieved she didn't have to stutter out became an easy order. "Get in that tent, _right now_. My papa is on his way."

He wasn't in the least alarmed, but Maka knew that her ridiculous papa was only deadly serious when it came to her safety. "I could just climb a tree or, here's a possibility, _walk in the other direction_."

Maka wasn't playing. Even if he was a fairly reasonable being, non-violent thus far, perfectly polite, he was still Unseelie and he was still far too close to Maka. Knowing her papa he'd come out swinging and ask questions sometime long after the blood had soaked into the dirt.

"Papa's a hunter. That's what he does. Better for me to mask you with my scent. Here, put these on." She grabbed a change of clothes randomly from her bag and shoved them at Soul. "We can talk more when he's gone, just hold tight in there while I visit with my papa."

Soul stood there, examining the plaid skirt and striped sweater she had shoved at him. "I don't think that…"

"No questions, I'm trying to save your life here! Put those on and get in here _now_ , Soul Eater."

Grumbling something about how she was overacting, Soul still starting doing as she ordered anyway. His eyes rolled at her as he pulled on her too tight sweater. She motioned for him to hurry as she held the tent opening clear for him and he only had one leg in the hole of her skirt when she darted behind his bent over form and pushed him into the tent by his remarkably firm rear end. The swear words that exploded from him briefly were cut off when his face crashed into her sleeping bag, and the whole situation briefly brought a smile to her face. The fearsome baku, indeed.

"Just hold tight in there and we can talk more later." She tossed the tablet into the tent and Soul visibly perked up when he realized he wouldn't have to just literally sit there and pretend he didn't exist. "I'll lead my papa away while we talk and then you can tell me more about what you do with your days. Nights. Whatever."

"If you had any sense you would have let me walk away." The tablet was already in his hands, his long fingers running over its smooth edges. That fae covetousness hadn't escaped Soul, it seemed.

She couldn't explain it, but even if that had been the smartest course of action she didn't think she would have been able to let him go. Rather than defend herself, she just smiled at him and Soul gave a short laugh before turning his attention to the screen.

Zipping up the tent entrance Maka wondered if this is what her mama would have done. And as Spirit rushed into the clearing like a force of nature, squealing Maka's name and gathering her into his arms in a bone crushing hug she didn't care if her mama would have approved or not. Right now, as Soul held his breath in her tent she knew that this was purely her decision and nothing felt more right than to keep the baku close.


End file.
